


She Looks At Him

by lizziecocoa



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 02:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8949964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizziecocoa/pseuds/lizziecocoa
Summary: Feyre has been at the Spring Court for months now and Rhysand is plenty happy to come get her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hate me. I'm tired and it's midnight. I'm not happy with this and it's my first ACoTaR fanfic. I promise I've been here for longer than two seconds. Of course, all credit goes to the wonderful Sarah J. Maas and I can't take any for myself.

She looks at him, and it’s like the whole world stops and starts anew.  
She looks at him, and it’s like all the light in the world has been attracted to her, her, only her, always her.  
She looks at him, and he could swear his heart stops beating in his chest.  
She looks at him, and it is just the two of them there for one precious moment.  
Then the rest of the world comes swooping back in.  
They’re at the Spring Court. Feyre has been with that ass Tamlin for months now, gathering information and feeding it back to them. It was dangerous, it was horrible, and every moment all the bones in his body (along with the females in his court) were screaming at him to get her back. But her decisions had not been her own for long enough, and she was strong. She was brave and strong and wild and vibrant and she left beauty on more than just a canvas. And so she stayed, and so he focused on the little bits of her he could feel through their ever-strengthening bond.  
But now they are here. Together. Well, not quite together yet. In the same room, at least. Feyre has yet to reveal who she is to the Court of Spring, as his arrival was quite-- abrupt.  
Tamlin snarls at him, gripping Feyre’s arm possessively. The bitch. “Get out of my house and get out of my court and get away from my fiancé before I make you and the rest of your forsaken court regret it.”  
He feels Feyre’s anger through the bond, only adding fuel to the fire of his own. But this is his mate’s moment, and so, smiling in his mind, he tells her to take it over from here.  
***  
She is pissed.  
She is pissed at Tamlin for being an ignorant asshole. She is pissed at Ianthe for daring to walk the face of the Earth. She is pissed at Lucien for not taking a stand earlier and fighting for what he believes in, for what they all know is right. While she may never get over this fully, one thought of how happy Rhys said him and Elain are doing--whatever it is they're doing-- at the cabin makes her smile for her older sister.  
The only person she isn’t pissed at was Rhys.  
Her mate. Her beautiful, wonderful, amazing mate who was the only one who could heal her in the worst months of her life. Who had taken the little heart she had left and made it blossom into more than she had ever dreamed of having. Who had known, beyond all reassurances, that she was not fine and that she might never be again. But with him by her side…  
They had acted like sixteen-year-olds that night, practically flying with joy through the streets of Velaris, hurrying off to see a priestess. Swearing her in, there were only a few moments she had ever been happier. All with him.  
“Get out of my house and get out of my court and get away from my fiancé before I make you and the rest of your forsaken court regret it.” Tamlin’s voice echoes in the house that is practically empty, seeing as many of the servants are gone from the rages he went on when she was away. The sheer possessiveness in his voice and the grip on her arm is the most infuriating thing. And looking at her mate, she knows he feels the same way. She also knows that today, Tamlin will not be the one to walk away victorious.  
Rhys sweeps up against her shields. She knows he is angry, but he is holding back for her. Her wonderful mate.  
“Don’t worry,” she tells him mentally. “I’ve been preparing for this for a very long time.”  
“I’m not worried. In fact if anything, I’m worried for Tamlin.”  
Feyre huffs a mental laugh, or something close to that anyway. “Just be glad Nesta isn’t here.”  
“Then I would really be worried for Tamlin.”  
She closes their connection off slightly, laughing a little a she does so-- both out loud, at the irony of the situation, and mentally at Rhys’s comments. It's just-- funny, how life can be sometimes.  
Less than a year ago she was in this very room, curled up on the floor, saved by her court, and now she is in the exact same situation (if you ignore the fact that the only member of her court here is Rhys) but who she is, who she’s become-- is different. She is no longer going to surrender to Tamlin’s fury. Her and her court can each take care of themselves, though if on the way they happen to help each other… That's not so bad at all.  
“Feyre, go upstairs. I’ll take care of this.”  
She hates the claws poking out of his skin in fury at one of the only people who has never hurt her, not intentionally. She hates the face with faint marks from the time he spent in total relaxation Under the Mountain. And she despises the fact that to him, all she is is his. His property, his prize.  
So she tilts her head, her brown hair done up in a matronly bun, and promptly states, “No.”  
He growls. “Go upstairs and --”  
“No.”  
It’s a full out snarl this time, his claws threatening to draw blood where they pierce the flesh of her arm. “You need to--”  
“Contrary to popular belief, Tamlin, I don’t need to do anything. My choices are my own. And my choice is to stay down here. With my mate.”  
“You can’t-- what did you just call him?” His face pales, his breathing turned ragged.  
She smirks a little. “My mate, Tamlin. The person I love and am loyal to. Though you wouldn’t know anything about love or loyalty.”  
“The king broke the bond.”  
“He was bluffing. No one can break a bond like that.”  
“He’s brainwashing you! He’s taking you and--”  
“Open your eyes, Tamlin! Stop being so blind for one second!”  
“I protected you when--”  
“Wrong. You suffocated me when what I needed most was fresh air. You protected that human girl, but guess what, she died Under the Mountain. I’m no longer her. So your options were to either learn to love the real me, or let me be. You chose become a psychopath without any sense of rationality, which if you haven’t noticed, was not an option. That made my only option leaving for something better. Someone better.”  
“We had to present a strong front, and--”  
“For who!” She explodes. “Enlighten me, Tamlin, who for months needs to present a strong front by not letting me do anything!”  
“I let you--”  
“Plan parties with the bitch you recklessly impregnated during a holiday based around a giant orgy? Yeah, real great work. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m behind on my High Lady duties.”  
“There’s no such thing as a High Lady.”  
Rhys wraps an arm around her waist. She lets the shadows surround her, and as her glamour falls, Tamlin’s jaw falls with it. She smiles, adjusting her bun.  
“Ready, Feyre darling?” Rhys’s lips touch her ear delicately and she smiles as if he has just told her a fabulous secret.  
“Ready.”  
They winnow to Velaris, to starlight, to home. And when she looks at him, he has never been happier.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment fic requests down below.


End file.
